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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001113">relics of lost worlds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutiesofcare/pseuds/dutiesofcare'>dutiesofcare</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Study, F/M, Family, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope, Sibling Bonding, although they don't know they're twins yet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:48:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutiesofcare/pseuds/dutiesofcare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke and Leia talk about the nuances between being fostered and being adopted.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leia Organa &amp; Luke Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>relics of lost worlds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnofthejedis/gifts">returnofthejedis</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for aly, the luke to my leia</p><p>happy birthday, my friend &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He finds her sitting by herself, hanging from one of the giant fenestras of the Yavin base they have been lodged as of the past weeks. A magnificent architectural structure left by a population that no longer exists, and Luke is fascinated by the harmonical composition of this place he now calls his home.</p><p>Outside, it pours.</p><p>He’s certain that the raindrops are falling over her, but she doesn’t seem to mind.</p><p>He loves the rain. Having lived his entire life on a desert planet, he's never seen rain before, but he remembers fondly the magic he felt when he experienced the drizzle falling over him for the first time in his life, back on his first week with the rebellion.</p><p>There is a storm happening outside, very different from the gentle rain that had welcomed him all those days ago. It’s loud and it’s bright, thunder and lightning partaking in a conversation that nobody else was invited to. He doesn’t mind the storm, isn’t scared of it; he finds them more reassuring than the sandstorms he had grown up amidst — in sandstorms, there is only destruction. Rainstorms are a promise of life hailing from nature.</p><p>He loves the rain, but he’s mesmerized by storms.</p><p>He looks at her, and he has yet to decide whether she’s rainfall or a thunderstorm.</p><p>She’s a mystery to him.</p><p>He’s never seen anyone like her. She’s a princess, she commands respect every time she walks into a room; people refer to her with reverence, although they all keep their distance from her. She’s untouchable.</p><p>But she doesn’t seem like royalty to him. She doesn’t accept any different treatment because of her titles, and anyone who dares to address her disparately is met by a glare of hers that makes them wish they had never left their beds that morning. She sleeps in the trenches alongside everybody else, she wears the same uniform as the soldiers, she keeps any hint of her femininity in check. </p><p>He would think she’d rather spend her time with the higher-ranking officers, given who she is. Instead, whatever free time she has she spends with him and with Han, even though she claims that the latter is the bane of her existence.</p><p>Yet, she keeps her distance. He doesn’t know any more about her than he did when he first met her — on that day when his life changed forever.</p><p>He doesn’t <em> know </em>her, so he’s uncertain whether he should approach her or not. Honestly — he just wants to know if she’s alright; she doesn’t seem to have a lot of people to ask if she’s alright, so he’d like to become that person for her. Maybe, if he’s lucky enough, she will ask if he’s alright, too.</p><p>So, he stands there. For whole eternities, waiting for the storm to pass so she’ll leave her trance and turn away from the breath of the wild and at last notice his presence there. However, the loud howling of the wind, wind powerful enough to sway the treetops in one beautiful coordinated dance, tells him that the storm isn’t due so soon.</p><p>He gathers his courage, decided to approach her. He’s the farmboy who had infiltrated the magnificent Death Star to save a girl he had never seen before and then he had blown up that same Death Star with his eyes closed. He’s determined that approaching her will be nothing compared to all the things he’s already achieved.</p><p>Then why does it feel so difficult each step closer he takes towards her?</p><p>Luke clears his throat discreetly to announce his presence. She flinches and turns around in a startle, surprised to find someone there, so certain she was that she had found a good hiding spot where no one would disturb her.</p><p>She realizes she was wrong as she perceives the bluest set of eyes staring into her soul; she lowers her head, uncomfortable.</p><p>That’s when Luke notices that her cheeks are wet and that the damp isn’t coming from the rain outside; he regrets his every decision of coming to her. She wants to have a moment for herself, to be vulnerable without prying eyes watching her every move, and he’s stolen her privacy. Yet, what scares him the most is how she’ll react; if she’s just going to yell at him and tell him never to bother her again.</p><p>Never seems like a very long time. Especially when he doesn’t have any friends to spend any time with.</p><p>Never seems very lonely.</p><p>Instead — she laughs to herself, pulling her legs close to her chest and pretending she hasn’t just wept her cheeks nor that he’s seen her do it. She makes herself small in her corner against the concrete wall, and he takes it as an invitation for him to join her.</p><p>So, he sits across from her, giving her space but still making himself seen. He feels the condensation against his face and wonders how she isn’t cold when she’s wearing short sleeves. He discreetly looks at her and notices that half of her clothes are damp, and he’s dry, so he slips out of his jacket and hands it to her.</p><p>She looks at him funnily, like he’s offering her something obscene, something borderline scandalous. He shrugs, his arm still extended to her until, eventually, she accepts it and wraps it over herself like a blanket.</p><p>Later, once he’s lying down in bed for the night, he’ll realize that she’s scared that he’s asking something in return from her, some expectation to meet his kindness; something she’s not ready, something she doesn’t <em> want </em>to give. At the present, however, the understanding doesn’t come to his mind.</p><p>“You’ll get cold,” she whispers softly, her voice delicate but showing no evidence that she was crying just now. Perhaps, if she ignores it, he’ll do her yet another kindness of ignoring it too.</p><p>Luke waves it off. “You’re already cold.”</p><p>Leia shivers, and she doesn’t know if it’s coming from the chilly wind against her body or from the caring behind his words. She’s not used to the latter; not when it comes from strangers.</p><p>As of late, her life was made of strangers only.</p><p>“Yeah, but…” she tries to rebuke him; she doesn’t <em> know </em>how to accept his affection. “You’re from the desert.”</p><p>He tilts his head, taking some time to understand what she means.</p><p>“Oh—So I’m not used to being <em> cold </em>?” Luke emphasizes, laughing, and she blushes. “You know, there’s almost no water vapor in the air in the desert, so once the suns set down, the heat from the day doesn’t stay trapped. At night? Deserts are cold enough to freeze anybody unprepared.”</p><p>Leia looks down, and she mutters to herself, “I knew that,” and she isn’t trying to sound cleverer than him, she doesn’t want to pose as if she has the monopoly on truth — but she’s used to knowing things. She <em> knows </em>things, but her mind is betraying her. Knowledge keeps evading her broken mind, and she doesn’t know how to keep it trapped.</p><p>Just like the desert can’t trap its daily heat. </p><p>Maybe, like the desert, she’s cold inside.</p><p>Luke is unsure of what she’s thinking, so he lets it go.</p><p>“Why are you sitting here all alone?” he asks her. He doesn’t think he’s being invasive, but if he is, he simply expects her to ignore him.</p><p>“I love the rain,” she confesses, and every time she speaks her voice is lower than before. She doesn’t know if he can hear her, not amidst the loud sounds of the thunderstorm, but she doesn’t care to find out.</p><p>“Rain, now, <em> that’s </em>something we didn’t have on Tatooine,” he chuckles to himself, his eyes looking out at the wilderness. Surprisingly, the mist on his skin doesn’t bother him, either. “Honestly, I never thought so much water existed in the whole galaxy.”</p><p>Now, he laughs in embarrassment, and he’s thankful when she doesn’t mind, nor belittles him for his naïvity. </p><p>“Turns out, I love the rain the most,” he rambles. “I like the concept of storms, too, so long as I have a shelter over my head. I wouldn’t exactly enjoy being one of the troopers stationed around the forest.”</p><p>Leia laughs — or, she thinks she does. In reality, she can’t even guarantee her lips turned up.</p><p>She misses when her life was that simple, when her biggest worry was the people getting soaked under the rain; but then again, was her life ever that uncomplicated?</p><p>She doesn’t <em> know.</em> She’s scared to remember.</p><p>Remembering <em> hurts. </em></p><p>“Why do you love the rain?” Luke asks; Luke <em> forces </em>her to remember.</p><p>“It rains a lot on Alderaan,” she reminisces, and she’s ashamed of her own foolishness. “Rained.”</p><p>Luke looks at her again; her eyes are lost outside, and she’s lost from her physical body. Her mind resides far away all of sudden, and her hands shake when she doesn’t have any awareness of it. Luke looks at her and he understands her pain.</p><p>Although — Tatooine has never been his home. Alderaan is Leia’s whole world.</p><p>
  <em> Was.</em>
</p><p>“Is that why you were crying?” he asks indecorously, and this time he knows he’s breaching her privacy. But he wants to see her happy; he hates to see her like this, and maybe talking about it would make her happy again.</p><p>Either that, or he’s lost her forever.</p><p>“It rains everywhere,” she says, and she isn’t making fun of him. It’s her faulty brain; it’s not functioning properly, not ever since she was forced to witness the catastrophe.</p><p>She refers to it as the catastrophe because — saying the exact words aloud, saying that Alderaan has <em> died </em>, would be an acceptance of its death. She isn’t ready for that, she doesn’t want that.</p><p>“I don’t need to be on Alderaan to see the rain,” she continues, lost in thought. “To sit by a window and feel the drizzle against my skin, to feel as alive as the nature that surrounds me. I don’t need Alderaan for that.”</p><p>He looks at her with sad eyes; uncertain whether she’s talking to him or to herself.</p><p>“No. I was crying because,” she pauses briefly, terrified to admit the truth to a stranger — but most of all scared to recognize the stranger that now lives inside of her; she doesn’t know who she is anymore, or what she’s meant to do. “I miss my parents.”</p><p>Her confession is so heartfelt that he feels the pain in her. Her voice is steady, yet he knows it’s on the edge of breaking and there’s nothing he can do. He realizes that that is the first personal information she provides to him ever since they met each other and it nearly takes all her strength; when at first he thought that she tried to keep her distance for being too high in the social hierarchy compared to them, he now understands her silence comes from the heartbreak of all her losses.</p><p>She can’t bring herself to talk without crumbling.</p><p>His heart hurts for hers; he’s lost his whole world too, but that was never his <em> world </em>to begin with.</p><p>“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says awkwardly, unsure how he should react when somebody dear to him has lost <em> everything. </em>“Were you close to your parents?”</p><p>“Hm?” she seems a little lost, like her brain is at last processing the four words that escaped her lips. “My parents are my best friends.”</p><p>This time — she doesn’t correct the verb tense. Nothing will ever erase what her parents mean to her; nobody will ever replace them.</p><p>“That sounds so wonderful,” Luke breathes out, mesmerized by one single sentence.</p><p>“Being a Princess, I didn’t have many friends. There’s always going to be some sort of bridge in whatever relationship I craft — but never with my parents. They were the only ones who would always, unconditionally be there for me,” she says, and she doesn’t know why she’s telling him that. Maybe, she needs someone to understand how badly she’s aching and still treat her all the same.</p><p>Maybe, she wants a friend.</p><p>“I never had many friends either,” he admits, although there’s a greater pain in his voice when saying that than there was on hers. “Biggs was my friend. He was about the only person to ever show me kindness, growing up. He died at the Battle of Yavin, though.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Leia says, looking back at him at last. He hears sincerity in her voice, and he feels so bad to be whining about his very small loss when hers is almost impossible to quantify. “Were you close to your parents?”</p><p>“Nope,” he replies indecorously, compressing his lips. “My parents died the day I was born. I never knew who they were. I barely know their names.”</p><p>“Oh,” she stutters, taken aback, and she feels the need to apologize again. She doesn’t. “Did you grow up in the streets?”</p><p>“No, no. I was lucky enough to always have a roof over my head,” he says and he means it. Growing up, he had very little, but at least — he always had a house.</p><p>Although he always longed for a <em> home</em>, he supposes a house is better than nothing.</p><p>“I was fostered,” he continues. “By my uncle and my aunt. My uncle was my father’s stepbrother, although I think they only met once.”</p><p>She looks at him curiously, studying him. </p><p>“There isn’t a need for blood connection for two adults to love an innocent boy as a mother would love her son,” Leia gently proposes, inferring a resentment in his heart for being abandoned at birth by his parents — even though his parents didn’t ask to die.</p><p>He considers her statement, gathering all his memories from his childhood.</p><p>“I don’t think that’s possible, Leia,” he confesses. “I think the only way for you to be genuinely loved and cared for during your childhood is to have your blood parents tending to you. That sort of love — it’s bound on the womb. The expectation of parents waiting for months for this <em> promise </em>of life, imagining all sorts of people that their child will grow to be only to have that child become somebody else entirely. If a baby is merely dumped at your doorstep — the connection simply isn’t there.”</p><p>“You’re wrong,” Leia diminishes his thought. “Relationships, all sorts of relationships, are crafted, not predestined. Besides, I’m certain there are <em> so many </em> children out there that aren’t loved by their birth parents, that are merely an accident of careless love nights to which parents have no choice but to <em> accept </em>. Acceptance doesn’t necessarily mean love.”</p><p>“I think <em> you’re </em> wrong,” Luke debunks, and he feels bad to be having this argument when she’s mourning her parents. Then again, he has been mourning the loss of <em> his </em>parents ever since the day he drew his first breath. </p><p>She doesn’t mind his harsh accusation; she’s a politician after all, so the greatest way to take her mind off matters of the heart is by engaging in a discussion — and she accepts the escapism gratefully.</p><p>“Can you tell me any nice memory of your aunt or your uncle?” she asks of him, raising one of her brows. His jacket still tightly wrapped around her.</p><p>“<em> No </em>,” he imposes.</p><p>Leia rolls her eyes. “Now you’re just being obstinate.”</p><p>Luke sighs, conceding. For someone who never talks about her private life, she surely seems too interested in <em> his </em>.</p><p>He doesn’t think he minds; nobody else has ever cared enough about him to ask about his family.</p><p>“Aunt Beru teaching me how to read,” he reminisces. Although he’s looking at her, his mind is focused on the past. “Education on Tatooine — it didn’t really exist, especially if you lived far away from the city centers, like me. But Aunt Beru was so adamant about my learning to read. I admit I struggled a lot, and she was always very patient with me. She never lost her temper at my many mistakes and she encouraged me until I thrived.”</p><p>Leia smiled warmly at him. “You might have called her your aunt, but Luke — <em> that’s </em>a mother.”</p><p>“No, Leia, that’s an <em> aunt </em> ,” Luke protests. “An aunt still loves you, still cares for you, still teaches you how to read so you’ll learn how to think for yourself. A mother hugs you good morning and kisses you goodnight every single day. A mother finds solace in you as much as you find solace in her. Leia, I was with them ever since I was born. If I were truly their son, I would have at least called them <em> mother and father </em>. Instead, I was just their nephew.”</p><p>He pauses briefly, gathering his strength; it doesn’t matter how old he gets, the wound would never heal.</p><p>“I hope you won’t get me wrong, I’m still very grateful for everything that she did for me. She was kind and she was loving, she protected me in every way she could. In the end, though, I was just their obligation—why are you looking at me like that?”</p><p>“You keep changing the pronouns,” she points out, “You’re talking about <em> them </em> , and suddenly it’s just <em> her </em>.”</p><p>At that, he laughs uncomfortably.</p><p>“It’s alright, Leia. I don’t want to bother you with the magnificent tales of Uncle Owen’s parenting.”</p><p>“It’s not a bother,” she says softly, awkwardly extending her foot to nudge against his — and that’s the greatest sign of affection she knows how to give.</p><p>He looks at her boot on his ankle, amused, and realizes she’s probably telling the truth.</p><p>That simple clumsy gesture earns her all of his trust.</p><p>“Well, Uncle Owen wasn’t a parent <em> at all </em> . Most days, he wasn’t even an uncle,” he remembers, and all the amusement is gone from his voice. He’s gazing down at her foot, trying to find comfort in her comforting gesture. “He was very mean. Both to me and to Aunt Beru. He would often engage in violent behavior whenever things didn’t go his way and we’d become the targets of his outrages. Now, Aunt Beru would step up for me whenever she could, she would always do everything in her power to protect me, but… It was still very scary, to grow up in such an environment. To never know when <em> bad </em>might become — worse.”</p><p>The teasing expression disappears completely from her face; she resembles very guilty for pushing him to talk about sad memories, not when she doesn’t know if he wants to do so. She wants to say something meaningful, to ease his pain, yet all that escapes her lips—</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Luke.”</p><p>Maybe, she’s already acquired the wisdom that meaningful words don’t mean bantha shit in the great scheme of things.</p><p>“It’s alright,” he says, even though it <em> wasn’t </em>. “He’s dead now, anyway. He can’t hurt me or my Aunt anymore.”</p><p>“Memories can hurt just as bad,” she whispers, and they both know she’s not referring to any incident she might have had with her parents growing up.</p><p>No; her bad memories are much more recent.</p><p>“I suppose,” he exhales loudly, doing his best to attach himself to the moment, not to the past. He glances at her, at her small figure in front of him, wrapped in a jacket at least twice her size, and he finds relief there.</p><p>“If you’ll allow me to be audacious, Luke,” she starts, and waits briefly for him to stop her; he doesn’t. “I think you had a terrible uncle, if he may even be called that. However… You had an aunt in Beru, but you also had a <em> mother </em>in her. She provided the most important thing the role of a mother demands: protection. Even if she couldn’t succeed all the time, she still tried her best. That’s what counts, by the end of the day.”</p><p>“I suppose,” he repeats, and sadness is now clear in his voice. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I miss Aunt Beru dearly, and I wish she were still alive. All things considered, I’m still glad I managed to leave Tatooine. That was what I had always wanted. I just wish it had been under different circumstances.”</p><p>“I understand,” Leia makes sure he feels himself heard. She, too, wishes that things could have gone a lot differently. “I know this means nothing compared to the losses you’re enduring, but we, the rebellion, are very grateful for everything that you’ve done. If you hadn’t been at the Battle of Yavin, we would have lost. Had we lost, what happened to Alderaan would have been in vain. If we had lost Alderaan for nothing… I don’t think I would have survived.”</p><p>She looks very vulnerable now. Very different from the fierce woman that had guaranteed they escaped the Death Star unscathed. </p><p>Or, as unscathed as the circumstances allowed them.</p><p>He looks at her flagrantly and says, “I don’t know how you’re still standing.”</p><p>She shivers and looks down on herself, self-conscious. “I don’t have a choice.”</p><p>He doesn’t think that’s true, but he doesn’t argue.</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about that,” she adds, stealing him the chance of asking anything related to her or to Alderaan. “Tell me about your childhood. Anything. Just tell me something so I don’t have to think about it.”</p><p>She doesn’t need to specify that she’s referring to Alderaan and everything that was lost.</p><p>If she wants a distraction, he’ll gladly give it to her.</p><p>“I wish I knew anything about my Father,” he says, “Safe to say — there’s this void inside of me. When I met Ben Kenobi and he told me that he knew my father — and that my father was a Jedi nonetheless! — I was so thrilled to finally have the chance to understand who I am, where I come from. But that chance was stolen when Ben sacrificed himself for us. Now, I’ll never get the answers I’ve sought my entire life.”</p><p>Leia looks at him with pity. “Understanding who you are doesn’t come from knowing where you come from. It comes from knowing who you are <em>inside</em>. You’re your own person, not your birth parents.”</p><p>He hears her and he huffs. “That’s easy for <em> you </em>to say. You come from a long lineage of royalty.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t speak of things that you don’t know about,” she objects, although there isn’t any animosity behind her voice.</p><p>Luke gives her a look, “Forgive me, Your Highness, but I’m quite certain that there’s only blue blood running on your veins that goes back to so many past generations.”</p><p>Leia rolls her eyes. “Again, you shouldn’t speak of things you know nothing about.”</p><p>He snorts to himself. “I’m afraid your <em> title </em>gives away every supposition I have about you.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t make preconceptions about people you don’t <em> know </em>,” she points out yet again.</p><p>Luke shrugs. “You have yet to prove me wrong.”</p><p>Leia leans forward, his jacket falling from her chest onto her lap. She puts her hand on her chin, daring, “I’m adopted.”</p><p>His jaw evidently drops and there’s confusion written all over his face — which highly amuses Leia. He examines her up and down, as if trying to access the veracity of her words, which serves for nothing as he has no idea of what her — adoptive — parents look like. So, amidst his shock, he blurts out, “Get out of here…!”</p><p>Leia laughs loudly at him.</p><p>“But — You’re a Princess!”</p><p>“Can’t a Princess be adopted?!” she poses.</p><p>“No…?” he cries, and he has never been so confused in his entire life. “Princesses are supposed to come from a long line of royals!”</p><p>“Well, I’m afraid to disappoint you,” she muses, “There’s no ‘blue blood’ in my veins, as you claimed.”</p><p>“And — and your adoptive parents still love you?”</p><p>“They’re not my adoptive parents. They’re my <em> parents </em>, period, there’s no distinction,” she clarifies, making it clear that making that semantic mistake is unacceptable. “And assuming that they did make me the heir to the Alderaanian crown, I’m quite positive in saying that they loved me. A least a little bit.”</p><p>He infers that she’s mocking him, so he pouts. “That’s so surreal, Leia.”</p><p>“It’s not surreal at all,” she says, “It simply debunks every preconception you’ve had of life until this moment.”</p><p>He scratches his hair; his brain is struggling to make any synapses. “So you’re telling me they loved you as if you were their daughter?”</p><p>“I <em> was </em> their daughter, Luke, you have to understand that,” she speaks gravely, somehow bothered that he’s not properly listening to anything she’s saying. “Blood doesn’t mean <em> anything </em> so long as love exists. And I was unconditionally loved the day my <em> father </em> brought me to Alderaan and I was placed in my <em> mother’s </em> arms. They’re the only family I’ll ever have.”</p><p>Speaking of them brings tears to her eyes, so she looks away. She knows that she won’t ever see them again, but perhaps what that actually means has yet to come to her.</p><p>He notices her sudden reaction, and he feels bad for making her sad. He wants her to feel better, so he nudges her ankle with his foot, just like she’s done to him. She laughs, although the sound is broken.</p><p>“Do you know who your birth parents are?” he asks because he’s genuinely interested in the concept. He’s never thought fostered children could be as loved as she’s describing.</p><p>“I don’t,” she replies simply. “I think they died in the Clone Wars, but that’s all I can say about them. You see, Luke, they’re just my progenitors. I never cared for them.”</p><p>“You were never curious?” he insists, “Not even when you learned that you weren’t their biological daughter?”</p><p>Leia frowns to herself. “I don’t remember ever not knowing that I wasn’t adopted. Well, I guess it’s hard keeping that information from you when you’re the crown princess and everybody’s eyes are on you. So yeah, I always knew that I was adopted. It was my favorite bedtime story, the story of the day my father brought me home.”</p><p>She doesn’t realize it, but she’s smiling so broadly that Luke regrets pestering her about it.</p><p>“They would always tell me how <em> lucky </em> they were to have found <em> me </em>from all the babies in the world,” she reminisces, a lump forming on her throat at the memories. “Little did they know, I was the fortunate one. To have found a home on them.”</p><p>He smiles sadly; if he extends his hand, he’s certain that he’d be able to touch her pain.</p><p>“It’s amazing, I think, how being adopted never shaped the way you view the world.”</p><p>“Of course it did,” she discloses. “I spent most of my childhood trying to come up with ways on how I must look like my parents. I would tell my mother, <em> I think we have the same eyes, </em> or I would say to my father, <em> look, daddy, we smile the same! </em> And none of it was true, and we all knew as much, but I was so <em> desperate </em> to wholly belong to them that I would grasp at straws, and they would just agree with it. They wanted me to be happy, and if believing I had my mother’s eyes and my father’s smile made me happy, then so be it. Because, Luke, <em> that’s </em>what a family is. Making sure that your loved ones are happy and taken care of, and having them do the same for you. Not blood. Blood doesn’t mean anything.”</p><p>“You really were their whole world,” he infers, and he’s happy for her; he truly is, although there’s a certain envy inside of him that he’s never got to experience any of that. “I suppose that would be the difference between being fostered and being adopted. Your parents always longed for you, and they made sure you knew how much they loved you. I was — tossed to my uncle and aunt, and they never bothered to make sure I didn’t feel exactly like I had been disposed of at their doorstep.”</p><p>She nods; she can’t argue against that, but she feels bad that even though they had started the same way, they had ended up on opposite sides of the spectrum.</p><p>“Family is a messed up affair,” she concludes and leaves it at that.</p><p>He snorts, agreeing. She hands his jacket back to him and he accepts it, although it’s still pouring. By now, they’re both soaked.</p><p>“We’re family now, Leia,” Luke tells her, and he doesn’t feel awkward to say it, even if he’s only known her for a few weeks. He feels a connection to her that he’s never felt with anybody else. “Family doesn’t mean blood, you said it yourself, and… Well, we’re both relics of lost worlds. You’re a relic of Alderaan, and I’m a relic of my birth parents. We’ve become a rare, endangered specimen, and as such we should stick together. I think.”</p><p>She smiles, amused at how inarticulate he is and amazed at how much his words touch her soul.</p><p>“I’d like that very much.”</p><p>The Organas found her when she needed them the most; perhaps, now, she’s got Luke and Han to stand with her.</p><p>He smiles, and they both look at the horizon.</p><hr/><p>
  <em> “The Force is strong in my family. My father has it, I have it, and… My sister has it. Yes, it’s you, Leia!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I know. Somehow… I’ve always known.” </em>
</p><hr/><p>Family — whatever that means.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>feedback appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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